


The Confessor

by unfolded73



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Pete's World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 20:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor finds someone he can confide in across the Void about the events of "The Waters of Mars"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Confessor

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published 18 November 2009. What I said at the time: I have a feeling a lot of people are going to be writing fics where Ten gets a serious talking-to, after the events of The Waters of Mars. In mine, Ten II gets the honours.

The Doctor's eyes snapped open in the dark bedroom, his single heart loud in his ears in the quiet of the house. A glance at the clock (2:37) and he was rubbing a hand over his face, trying to remember the dream (was it a dream?) that had awoken him. A dream of death and screams and fear ... a dream of water. _Just one drop ... you die today ... Time Lord victorious..._ He shuddered.

Rolling toward Rose, he reached for her, seeking comfort in the sleepy warmth of his wife. She was on her stomach, her arms up and around her pillow, her face mostly obscured by tousled blond hair. When the Doctor wrapped an arm around her, she snuffled and turned her head away from him. There was an itch under his skin, a vibration urging him to get up, seek, find. He only tried to ignore it for a few minutes, but soon his fidgeting was translating to Rose, making her shift restlessly in her sleep. The Doctor propelled himself out of bed, silently pulling on clothes and leaving the bedroom.

Each step down the stairs was practised, perfectly placed to avoid the creaky spots. He went through the kitchen and out the door into the back garden toward his work shed, his bare feet leaving impressions on the dewy grass. There was an unexpected chill in the air, and he was about to turn back to the house for shoes when he was brought up short by the sight of the blue box.

The first thing that occurred to him, in the midst of his shock, was that he didn't have a key. Rose did, she kept it in a jewellery box in a tangled jumble of necklaces and earrings. But his fear that if he looked away for even a moment, the TARDIS would disappear, kept him from going to retrieve it. The Doctor stood there, immobile, staring, until the door creaked open and his duplicate stood on the threshold.

"You just gonna stand there all night?" he called, then disappeared from view. The open door to his ship beckoned to the Doctor like a lover.

He lurched forward, numb and disbelieving of what his own eyes were telling him. Belatedly he realised that he had woken with a tiny tickle in the back of his brain, his own human sleep-muddled state making him unaware of it, of his own TARDIS, until he'd practically stumbled over it in the back garden. The fact that he'd been so slow to notice brought him shame.

Walking into the TARDIS almost hurt, like a hundred secret fantasies come to life. It was easily the worst part of his new life, going without his ship, and being here now ... it almost felt like infidelity. Because that had been the trade-off: his old life for the one he now shared with Rose.

The metal grating was cold and sharp against his bare feet. He stood on the ramp for a moment, watching the other Doctor work at the console. "How are you here?"

The other man glanced at him. "I cheated." The Doctor could see that he'd done some sort of slap-dash reroute of the power supply, presumably to allow him to power the TARDIS in this universe. Which was reckless in and of itself, but didn't answer how he'd brought her through the Void in the first place. The Doctor wondered if he even wanted to know. "Been doing a lot of that lately," the other Doctor added, and it took a moment for the Doctor to connect the two phrases together in his head.

He couldn't decide what to ask first. _Why are you here? What do you want?_ "You staying, then?" was what popped out of his mouth, a bitter edge to it that embarrassed him.

The other Doctor finally met his eyes. "No. I just ... I just needed ..." He swallowed awkwardly, his eyes darting to the side.

"What, Rose? It's a little late for you to come to that conclusion." The Doctor hated jealousy, the way it burned through his veins like poison.

"No," the other Doctor answered, his voice husky. " _You._ I needed someone I could talk to who might understand," he finally said in a rush.

 _What have you done?_ "And there was no one in your universe? Jack? Sarah?"

"They have their own problems right now." He was back to fiddling with the console, his eyes downcast. The Doctor noticed how tired the Time Lord looked. In principle, it was his part-human body that should have aged faster, so _he_ was the one who should look older, but the Doctor wasn't sure he did.

He relented, sitting down on the jump seat. "Okay. What happened?"

The other Doctor turned to face him. His mouth opened to speak, then shut with a click of his teeth. When he finally spoke, it wasn't about his own issues, whatever those were. "You're married," he said, gesturing to the ring on the Doctor's left hand.

"Yeah."

"Good." It came out clipped and high-pitched.

He couldn't help but smirk at the Time Lord then. "What happened?" the Doctor repeated.

"I don't know if I can tell it." He sat down next to his double, then held up his hands so that they faced each other, level with their faces. "May I?"

The idea made him want to balk at the same time that it felt terribly seductive. Linking minds with someone was something he was no longer capable of initiating, and he hadn't realised until just that moment that he'd missed it. He nodded an almost imperceptible nod.

The chill of the other Doctor's fingers against his temples made him gasp, and for a moment he was hyperaware of every point of contact between them: the smooth rubber of the toe of the other Doctor's trainer where it brushed his bare foot, the press of their knees together, the other man's breath on his face. 

For a moment, nothing happened; the Time Lord's mind was still firmly closed. He sighed. "I can smell her on you."

The Doctor frowned, opening his eyes. "Well, yeah. That's what happens when you share a bed with someone." He knew he was twisting the knife, and he had to admit that it gave him a tiny, perverse pleasure to do so.

The other man's mouth was a thin line. Then he took a deep breath and the Doctor felt a door open and he was swamped in sight and sound and smell and pain.

_"My head is so stupid, you're Captain Adelaide Brooke!" ... "November 21st, 2059" ... "It's one of those very rare times when I've got no choice ... The woman with starlight in her soul ...Water always wins" ... "If something was frozen down there, a viral life form" ... "I saw the Daleks" ... "Your death is fixed. In time. Forever ... (They died the Time Lords, they all died) ... it's taken me all these years to realise the laws of time are mine, and they will obey me! ... is this it? My death? Is it time?"_

He was barely aware of it when the other Doctor's fingers detached from his face. The Doctor gulped for breath, reeling from what he had just experienced. The other Doctor's pain was so raw, his madness barely held in check. Had he really been that way once? Two years spent envying this man across the Void, this man he used to be, and now all he could feel was overwhelming pity. He swiped at his face, surprised when his hand came away wet with tears.

"I'm sorry," the other man said. 

"You crossed the line, the line that... How could you?" He wanted to understand. This man was _him_ , after all, and if this was something he was capable of, he needed to understand why.

"I'd had enough. Enough loss. Enough death. Enough of the universe. Please understand," the other Doctor said, and the desperation in the plea broke the Doctor's heart. 

"I'm trying," he said, a sudden headache blooming behind his eyes, and he put his head in his hands, still sitting on the jump seat.

"If you'd been there, if you'd heard them screaming and dying ..."

"I wouldn't have done what you did," he said, his voice raspy with strain, his head shaking back and forth in negation. "Not seeing the timeline the way you see it. I couldn't have." What had the other Doctor experienced since they'd parted that had led him to this place? Or was it simply what he _hadn't_ experienced? Love. Companionship. A hand to hold.

The other man stood up and began to pace, putting physical distance between them now that their minds were separated. "You don't have to tell me it was a mistake, I know that. I've damaged Time, and the price ..." He heaved a sigh. "I don't want to die."

The Doctor didn't bother to deny that he would; he'd seen that too in what he'd been shown, the warnings and prophesies, the pattern leading to the other man's death. "You'll regenerate," the Doctor said, again unable to cover up his jealousy. 

"Depends on how I die, I guess. And anyway, I don't have many of those left."

"You've got three more than I do."

"I'm sorry."

"I've learned to accept the length of my life," he said, wondering as he said it if it were true. If it could be true for anyone.

"Would you prefer that you didn't exist? That you'd never existed?" the other Doctor asked him, with what seemed to be genuine curiosity in his voice.

"Of course not." He lifted his head and looked at his duplicate. "You don't really think I'd feel that way, do you?"

"I could've done it. I was already starting to work it out, standing out on the street on Earth in 2059. I'd decided I couldn't stop Rose from falling through to this universe the first time, there were too many threads of Time tied to that happening. But I was going to change it. Stop the Dalek from shooting me, have the reunion with Rose that I deserved. No metacrisis. Donna could've stayed."

"And Davros destroys the universe," he whispered. He couldn't believe he was sitting here listening to his Time Lord self talk so matter-of-factly about snuffing out his own life like this, plucking him out of existence so easily.

"I was going to stop him. Time was mine to command." The other Doctor laughed bitterly. "I might've have had a little break with reality there."

"Yeah, do you _think_?" the Doctor answered him, and just like that, the tension broke. Both of them laughed at it all, at the surreality of the whole situation. "You need someone. I don't suppose I'm telling you anything you don't know, but you _need_ someone. You've been alone too long."

"I know."

"We could come with you," he blurted.

"No."

"We could."

"I won't let you." The other Doctor's eyes met his, brown and fathomless. "You have a real life here with Rose, a good one. I saw bits and pieces of it in your mind, and by the way, how you manage to find time for anything else, given all the sex I saw in there--"

"Oi! I didn't give you permission to poke around in my brain."

"Sorry. Morbid curiosity." He walked to the other side of the console, and the Doctor stood up and moved toward the door. "Where are you going?"

"To wake up Rose."

"Please don't."

The Doctor crossed his arms and faced his duplicate down. "Take a moment to imagine the wrath of Rose if I let you go without at least letting her say hello." _And say goodbye_ , he added mentally.

"Please, just don't tell her I was here. I can't say goodbye again. I can't." The Doctor saw the Time Lord's eyes brighten with unshed tears, and he found himself agreeing. Found himself walking over and pulling the other man into an embrace, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. 

"You have my word," the Doctor assured him, much as it pained him to do so. Maybe it was better for Rose anyway, not to see him this way. She imagined he had another companion by now, and he found he really didn't want her to know the truth.

"I can't stay; this was only ever going to be a short trip," the other man said.

"Be careful," he whispered.

"It makes it a little easier, knowing you're here. Knowing you're both okay." His duplicate stepped back, holding his spine straight and stiff. "Goodbye, Doctor."

He stood on the lawn for a long time after the TARDIS disappeared, his toes wiggling in the grass. Staring up at the stars, wondering if he'd see the other man ever again. 

Eventually, the Doctor climbed his stairs and took off his clothes and got into bed. Rose seemed to sense him, rolling over and pressing against his back. "You're cold," she mumbled. It was true, he could feel the heat of her along his spine and the backs of his legs. He was struck again with the sense that he had been unfaithful to her.

"Was out in the shed," he mumbled.

"Silly Doctor." Her hand rubbed warmth into his arm, and the affection in that little gesture brought unexpected tears to his eyes. He rolled over and gathered her into a suffocating hug. 

"You all right?" she said into the crook of his neck.

He loosened his grip a little and pulled back enough to smile at her. "Thank you."

"What for?" She ran a finger down his sideburn, a familiar gesture, and yet he had a new appreciation for all these little things, tiny things that made his life richer and more meaningful. He lifted her hand from his face and threaded their fingers together.

"For always being my hand to hold."


End file.
